


Sticky Notes

by lunnatix_x



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APH England - Freeform, APH FrUK, APH France - Freeform, Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, Death, FrUK, FrUk because why not, Hetalia, Human, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), I Don't Even Know, I actually ship UsUk but sh, Inspired by Fanfiction, Let me write what I wanna write, M/M, Memory Loss, Sad, Sad Ending, Yaoi, i still have no idea what i'm doing, please be patient, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 12:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20064256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunnatix_x/pseuds/lunnatix_x
Summary: Human AU. - Francis step foot into his house. He looked up at the door, a bright green sticky note was stuck onto it. What? He took it off, looking at the familiar cursive handwriting, but he couldn’t place his finger on who it belonged to. ‘Don’t forget to lock the door.’





	Sticky Notes

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a story I read on fanfiction.net called 'A Note For Your Love.' It's amazing and you definitely should read it. <3
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6071889/1/A-Note-For-Your-Love

Francis stepped out of the taxi. He wasn’t sure if it was late at night or incredibly early in the morning, all he knew was that it was dark. Grey clouds rolled over from the distance, it seemed as though it was about to rain later.   
  
“You sure you’ll be okay from here? I can walk you to your door if you need.” His taxi driver called out from behind him.   
  
He looked over at the man and smiled. “No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.” He reassured him. The man gave him a nod before he drove off down the street, making a u-turn to get back onto the main road.   
  
Francis brushed his hand through his golden hair. He had just been discharged from the hospital. Apparently he had been in a car crash that caused him to lose all his memories, but he couldn’t remember much from before then, only that something had been distracting him and he ended up crashing into the car in front of him.   
  
From then on it was just sirens, incoherent speech and eventually silence.   
  
He had woken up three days prior. He had apparently been unconscious for nearly an entire month, but once again, he didn’t remember much.   
  
He breathed into his hand to warm it up as he reached for his keys in his coat pocket.   
  
After a bit of searching, he found them and unlocked his door. The door creaked open to reveal a dark hallway. Despite being uninhabited for nearly a month, the house looked like it had just been cleaned yesterday.   
  
_ Guess I really enjoy cleaning... huh _ . Francis thought to himself as he stepped foot into his house. He placed his suitcase onto the floor and turned around to shut the door when he noticed something sticking onto it.   
  
It was a bright green sticky note. He took the note off, holding it in his hands as he looked at the cursive handwriting written on it. It seemed so familiar, but he couldn’t place who it belonged to.   
  
‘Don’t forget to lock the door.’ Was written on the note. Francis let out a chuckle, he had completely forgotten about that. _ I guess whoever wrote this note knows a lot about me _ .   
  
Sticking the note onto his pointer finger, he shut the door and made sure to lock it. He went to continue walking when he noticed another note. This time it was on a bright pink piece of paper.   
  
‘Wipe your shoes when you walk in, I don’t want your dirty boots to get mud everywhere. You know it’s hard to polish wood!’   
  
Francis laughed again. _ Did I have a roommate or something? _   
  
Listening to the note, he wiped his shoes on the entrance mat and took them off, leaving them by the door. He picked up his suitcase again, making sure to bring the pink note with him as he walked down the hall. He found a light switch in the next room and turned all the lights on.   
  
The house was small, but simple and comfortable. The entrance hall was also where the stairs to the second floor was located. Down the hall was the kitchen and dining area which was connected to the living room. Outside the living room was a porch where a single rocking chair was placed, facing into the garden, rocking slightly in the wind.   
  
Francis noticed that it was raining.   
  
He left his suitcase in the living room and walked up the stairs. The two sticky notes were still in his hand. On the second floor there was a bathroom and two bedrooms.   
  
One bedroom was neat and organised, as if it had never been used before. The other was a mess. The bedsheets were everywhere and it looked like a hurricane had run in, messed everything up and left. Francis let out a slight gasp.   
  
_ I guess I wasn’t the neat freak then... _   
  
He walked over to what he assumed was his desk. There was a piece of paper on it. He placed the sticky notes on the desk and picked the paper up. The handwriting was different to the ones on the notes, he assumed that it was his own writing.   
  
_ ‘Dear Arthur, _ _   
_ _ I miss you so much. When will you come back? Everyday when I wake up, I go to reach for you and then I realise you’re not there. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I know I messed up, I’m so sorry. Just please, come back. Je t'aime, Arthur. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ From Francis.’ _ _   
_   
Francis stares at the note confusingly. Had he and Arthur been a thing? Did Arthur leave? Was Arthur the one who left the notes? If Arthur had left, then why were the notes still there?   
  
He shook his head and re-read the letter. According to the date at the top, the 25th of December 2019, it seemed that he had written it the morning before he got into the crash. He probably planned to post it to ‘Arthur’ back then too, but never got the chance.   
  
Francis frowned. Should he post it now? But he doesn’t even know who this Arthur is, let alone his address.   
  
He sighed and put the letter back down, deciding not to post the letter, just in case that he ended up posting it to some 60-year-old man that planned to murder him in his sleep.   
  
_ Speaking of sleep _ , Francis thought, looking at his bed. _ I should probably go to sleep now _ .   
  
He lay in bed, about to drift off to sleep when he realised he had left the lights on downstairs. Groaning internally, he pulled himself up and jogged down the stairs. He walked over to the light switch where he noticed a sticky note that he had missed earlier.   
  
‘Don’t forget to turn the lights off, git, you know electricity bills can get expensive.’   
  
Francis smiled to himself. He didn’t know what Arthur looked like, but he could imagine him frowning disappointingly at him right now. He took the note off the wall and shut the lights off, making his way back upstairs.   
  
  
  
When Francis woke the next morning, it wasn’t because he naturally woke up, it was because an alarm had gone off. He stirred slightly before groaning. His hair, being longer than the average males, was incredibly messy and tangled. He yawned before turning to his left where his bedside table was located.   
  
He pressed a button on the alarm and it shut off. He was about to go back to sleep when he noticed an orange note on the table. He sat up, leaning on his elbow and looked at the note.   
  
‘I know you’re going to sleep in, so I set your alarm for you. Now get your lazy ass to work!’   
  
Francis grinned. This mysterious note-sender seemed to know him pretty well. Unfortunately though, he had no job to go to, so the alarm was put for no reason.   
  
Still, he got up and changed into a fresh set of clothes, leaving his old ones on the floor. That was until he noticed another note in the wardrobe, just visible enough that he could see it only if he had chosen certain clothes. It seemed note-sender knew that much about him too.   
  
‘Don’t leave your clothes on the floor, please, you have a basket for a reason.’   
  
Francis rolled his eyes and threw his clothes into the basket. He then ran downstairs. Since it wasn’t dark anymore, and he wasn’t as tired, he could see the house much clearer. He looked up at the wall of the hallway. He had pictures hung up on the walls.   
  
There were many of him and his friends and family. But one specific picture caught his eye.   
  
It wasn’t a picture of him, instead it was a picture of another man. He had sandy blond hair, beautiful green eyes and eyebrows that could be compared to a caterpillar. Still, he was attractive nonetheless.   
  
Francis saw something written on the photo, it was in the same handwriting that the letter he found the night before was written in.   
  
‘Arthur Kirkland. Mon amour. December 25th, 2017.’   
  
Next to that note was another one, written in the same handwriting that the sticky notes were written in.   
  
‘I’m not your love, you git.’   
  
Francis laughed. At least he wasn’t single before the accident happened. But if he had a ‘love’, then why wasn’t he there while he was in the hospital?   
  
His mind was then brought back to the letter. It said that he was sorry, perhaps they had a falling out and broke up. Francis sighed, so much for having a love life.   
  
He walked into the kitchen and went to make himself some coffee, but instead he found tea... lots of tea. _ Guess I liked tea? _ He thought, but the more he thought, the more he realised that wasn’t true. Only one word came to his mind when he said tea. _ Arthur _ .   
  
He pulled out some Earl’s Grey Tea and let it seep. While looking for something to do while it did that, Francis noticed another letter on the dinner table. He walked over to the table and looked at the letter.   
  
_ ‘Dear Arthur, _ _   
_ _ I’m going to keep writing these letters until you respond. I miss you, I miss you so much. I hope you miss me too. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Just please, come back to me. I want you in my arms. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Love, Francis.’ _   
  
Francis felt a tinge of pain in his heart. He and Arthur must have had a real bad falling out.   
  
He decided to leave the letter in its place and grabbed his tea, walking out onto the porch to drink it. He went to sit on the rocking chair when he noticed another note on the chair. This time it was bright blue.   
  
‘Don’t even think about sitting in my chair, git. I told you to buy two, but of course you didn’t. Now you have to suffer.’   
  
Francis stifled a laugh. It seemed that Arthur really knew how to make him laugh, even when he was in a relatively bad mood.   
  
He slowly sipped his tea, letting the wind flow around him as he looked into the garden. Everything seemed to be well-maintained, which surprised him slightly. He was told that it had rained a lot while he was out, just like classic England, but he guessed that it was just enough to keep the plants alive without needing someone to worry about watering them.   
  
He sighed contently and leaned back against the chair. He had taken the sticky note off of it and was now playing with it in his hands. _ Perhaps this won’t be too bad after all... _ _   
_   
  
  
Months seemed to fly by since then. Francis had gone back to his job. It turned out that he was a fashion designer in a small, but popular shop in central England, and, despite not having any memories about any previous experience with tailoring, he managed to create some new clothing as well. They weren’t perfect, but he liked them.   
  
He continued to find the notes all over the house, some in places he had expected, others in places that seemed so odd that he wondered what made Arthur think about putting them in the first place.   
  
He had tried desperately to look for Arthur’s address, so that he could send him all the letters he had written. He was now collecting all the letters and notes that he had found, and slowly but surely, his memories were starting to come back.   
  
The first one came back when he found a note in the bathroom. He had reached into the cupboard to get his spare toothbrush when he found it next to the little container he kept his extra toothbrushes in.   
  
‘Don’t you dare get a new toothbrush when it hasn’t been more than 6 months. Toothbrushes can be expensive you know!’   
  
Francis laughed and went to get his toothpaste when there he was. Arthur was standing beside him, staring at him angrily.   
  
“You idiot!” He screamed. “You’re not supposed to put that much toothpaste! All you need is a pea size!”   
  
Francis would’ve laughed then and say, “You said pee.” An immature joke he had gotten from one of his friends, Alfred. But when he blinked, Arthur was gone.   
  
_ Weird... _ _   
_   
Another instance was in a dream. He and Arthur had gone grocery shopping. It was probably very late at night but the two decided to go anyway. He remembered it starting to rain and being stranded in the shop with Arthur.   
  
“Bloody hell.” Arthur mumbled. “Stupid English weather.”   
  
Francis laughed. “Come on, mon amour, rain is not that bad. Also, you grew up here, I feel like you should be more used to this than I am.”   
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m used to it, doesn’t mean I like it.”   
  
Francis let out a laugh and dropped the groceries onto the ground. Arthur gasped. “Careful! You could ruin those!”   
  
Francis simply smirked and grabbed Arthur’s arm, making him drop his items too. Arthur muttered some curse words under his breath as Francis dragged him out onto the rain, grinning.   
  
“See, mon amour, it’s not that bad is it?” He asked the man, holding his hands.   
  
“Shut up, frog.” The Brit hissed before a small smile grew on his face.   
  
“Oh what is this?” Francis exclaimed dramatically. “Arthur Kirkland smiling?! What a rare occurrence! Someone take a photo!”   
  
“Oh shut up!” Arthur laughed, playfully punching Francis. “I can smile sometimes you know.”   
  
“You should do it more often.”   
  
He looked up at Francis. “Sorry?”   
  
Francis put his hand to Arthur’s cheek, stroking it slightly. “You should smile more often. It looks good on you.”   
  
Arthur flushed red and looked away. “Sh-shut up...”   
  
Francis smiled. “Non.”   
  
  
  
Francis walked down the streets, looking for his car when he noticed a familiar looking grocery store in the distance.   
  
Walking past his car, he walked towards it. No doubt, it was the grocery store that he and Arthur had gone to that night.   
  
It had been a year since he was discharged from the hospital. He still couldn’t find any addresses linked to Arthur Kirkland, and his collection of letters and notes just kept piling up.   
  
Not that he was complaining, he was always looking forward to finding more things about his past before the accident.   
  
Though, in more recent times, it seemed that his findings had started to slow down. Occasionally, he’d find one but it wasn’t nearly as often as he had originally found them at the start. Maybe that was why he now cherished them like a treasure.   
  
He saw the light go green as he walked across the road crossing, looking at the grocery store ahead of him, ignoring everything else. He was about to reach the end when he suddenly noticed something out of the corner of his eye.   
  
A speeding car was driving straight towards him. Francis froze for a moment before he finally clicked back and jumped out of the way.   
  
“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING BASTARD!” The driver yelled, holding out a finger, but Francis didn’t care. His heart was beating fast. A crowd of people were surrounding him but he couldn’t hear what they were saying.   
  
His hands shook and his vision blurred. Everything came rushing back. Everything became clear... all his memories were back. Even the one memory he didn’t want to remember.   
  
He looked up at the crossing in front of him. A car had come rushing past and he felt himself being violently pushed away before anything could register.   
  
He froze as he noticed a familiar body. “ARTHUR?!”   
  
He ran towards his boyfriend, shaking him violently, trying desperately to keep his tears from rushing down. He was choking from holding them back, but he didn’t care. “ARTHUR! WAKE UP! PLEASE, WAKE UP!”   
  
He cried desperately, looking around for anyone. “SOMEBODY! HELP! PLEASE!”   
  
The owner of the grocery store came rushing outside, holding a phone to his ear. He was calling 999.   
  
“Yes, it’s a hit and run. Okay, hang on, let me check.”   
  
Francis stepped away as the owner did as the dispatcher told him to. He didn’t want to believe it. It was his fault. It was all his fault.   
  
It was his fault that his love had died.   
  
  
  
He ran back to his house, he didn’t even look behind him. He didn’t care about the people he pushed past, he just wanted to get home. He quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open, not bothering to lock it behind him.   
  
He ran up the stairs and onto the second floor. This time, he didn’t head to his own room, he headed to the second bedroom instead.   
  
He scavenged the room, searching for the item he desperately wanted to find.   
  
He pulled open drawers, pushed away furniture to see behind them, but he couldn’t find anything. He choked on his tears as he went to his last resort. He climbed up the ladder and went into the attic.   
  
There he found a box.   
  
He continued to cry as he opened it, holding his hand to his mouth, gasping slightly.   
  
He grabbed the item inside the box, as well as the note beside it.   
  
He fiddled with the item.   
  
It was a ring. A silver ring.   
  
“Hey Arthur.” He asked one day while he and Arthur were out on a walk. The sun was setting in the distance, and spring was finally allowing the leaves to start growing again on the trees.   
  
Arthur turned to him. “What is it?”   
  
Before Arthur could react, he knelt down on one knee.   
  
“Will you marry me?”   
  
Francis continued to cry as he held a letter in his hand. He had been rushing when he wrote it, and tears stained the paper, but he didn’t care. He wanted to write one last letter before he put everything away once and for all.   
  
‘Dear Arthur,   
One year ago I was in an accident. It cost me my memories. When I came home, I found all your notes. The same notes you used to put around to remind me to do things that I used to forget about.   
  
At first, I thought it was you putting them there. But now... I know better.   
  
It was December 25th, 2019. Two years after your death.   
  
As I did your previous anniversary, I got myself drunk. I just wanted you to be there with me. So I did the second best things.   
  
I left your notes exactly where I found them. I thought that maybe, if I pretended that you had left these notes for me while I was at work, then it would be like you never left in the first place.   
  
I was wrong.   
  
I went for a car ride. I got into a crash.   
  
I forgot everything.   
  
I forgot about you.   
  
But now, I know.   
  
And I’m sorry.   
  
I’m so sorry I forgot about you.   
  
I love you, Arthur, I love you so much.   
  
Love, Francis Bonnefoy, your husband.’   
  
  
*  
  


  
I looked at the sticky note that was with the ring and sobbed.   
  
This time it was rainbow.   
  
On it were four simple words.   
  
_ ‘I love you too.’ _


End file.
